What the Observers See

Consider how the earth shines
at night, without reflections.
Consider the observers
that have watched us through millennia,
this butterfly of a planet
suddenly alive.
Eyes that struggle with the glitter of delight,
calling others to the scope,
the radiological mirror,
to explain the sudden luminescent threads,
tracing the oceans.

What has happened on this little stone?
The waves coming in the emptiness
of the ether.
The twinkling in the deserts.
A new age of volcanic fire.
The precursor of a giant conflagration.
The end of a planetary jewel.
A malady of geological change.

Or as one of the distant viewer senses,
is this the appearance
of the impossible soul?
The opening again
of the miraculous wing,
another song coming from the silence?
And will it last beyond a moment,
or as so many others have done,
wink out one night,
never to recur?